A Gryffindor and a Slytherin walk into a library
by Teenage Mouse
Summary: First they hated each other. Then they didn't care. Then they missed each other. And now they're this. Who would have thought it? USUK at Hogwarts. No real story, just some moments between the two of them.
1. In the Library

~ In the Library ~

Arthur was sitting at his usual table somewhere in the depths of the library, when Alfred appeared in a nearby aisle looking for a book. And suddenly neither of them really cared about what they had been doing before.

Arthur's table was directly at the end of Alfred's aisle, so he had a clear view of the little show the Gryffindor boy was putting on for him.

At first, Alfred pretended to be searching the shelves for book, but the fact that he was casting very obvious glances over at the Slytherin made it clear that Arthur was meant to be watching. The American leant one hand casually against the bookshelf, the other resting on his jutted hip as he settled into a very cowboy-esque pose. He stayed like that for several seconds before he shot a look and a hopeful grin over at the Slytherin.

Arthur raised one impressive eyebrow, but leant a little in Alfred's direction, resting his elbow on the table and his chin gracefully on his knuckles to show he was paying attention. All focus on his essay forgotten.

Alfred's smile brightened in triumph, and he worked himself into a new pose that was obviously meant to look suave and flattering. He pressed his back against the bookcase behind him, resting a foot on one of the shelves so that his leg was brought up and bent at the knee. He crossed his arms and puffed his chest out – but then seemed to think better of it as he brought a hand up to his chin and settled into a classic "thinking pose." Then he checked to make sure he still had Arthur's attention.

Not that he really needed to. He could _feel_ the other's intense green gaze burning into him across the empty space between them. Arthur's eyes were like the sparks that burst from so many magic spells, and seemed just as powerful. No one else had eyes like that. And he was quickly discovering that he loved it when they were focusing just on him – and not in hate and frustration, for once.

Arthur looked down demurely. He rolled the wrist of his hand which was still holding his quill, making it look unintentional when the feather brushed underneath his chin flirtatiously as he looked up at Alfred through his eyelashes.

Such a simple, joking gesture, but it still gave Alfred a thrill he'd never felt from anything else – even after his 5 years of learning how to fly and do magic. It had been indescribably exciting to find out that there was a whole supernatural world hidden behind the "muggle" reality he was used to, but it still hadn't given him a rush like this little private, silent moment with Arthur. This was a new world in itself.

Next, Alfred pulled out a random book from the crammed rows in front of him. He leant forward and rested an elbow against the bookcase, brining his fist back to rest his cheek against the knuckles. Then he propped the book open in his other hand and pretended to read, crossing his legs casually and looking not so much the picture of 'studious' as 'drop dead handsome.'

Arthur's heart pounded. Something he had secretly wanted for a while now was coming true in the most spectacular of ways.

He and Alfred had barely spoken a civil word to each other in 5 years. They were their year group's stereotypical inter-house rivals. Every year group at Hogwarts had a Slytherin who was particularly Slytherin-y, and a Gryffindor who was the most Gryffindor-y, and they inevitably fell into a classic rivalry that entertained their classmates during their years at Hogwarts. He and Alfred had fallen into their parts on day one and had a most stimulating rivalry ever since. They truly hated each other.

But in his fourth year, Arthur returned to Hogwarts after the summer holidays and found, to his mild surprise, that he didn't hate Alfred anymore. He actually had to make an effort to be his enemy, and it all seemed rather ridiculous and pointless. When fifth year started he just decided to stop trying so hard. If he didn't hate Alfred, there was no point pretending to do so. He had better things to be doing, so he just got on with it all.

But it had really felt strange. Like there was an empty space in his life all of a sudden. He hadn't realised that hatred was that important to him – and in fact, it was a rather disturbing thought. He didn't want to be a bad wizard: someone who fed on hate to motivate himself, and give him satisfaction! That was no way to live. He may have been a Slytherin, but he wasn't like all those fairy-tales and urban legends about Slytherins being _evil_.

The more fifth year went on, however, the more Arthur realised that he just missed interacting with Alfred. It wasn't the hate he missed; it was that loud, naïve charisma, that reliably smiling face – all so unlike anyone else he ever talked to or spent time with. That breath of fresh air he used to have was gone, and it had left everything stale.

And now that he found he didn't really hate Alfred, or care about beating him at everything just to put him down, he kind of wished he could get to know him. He found himself wishing that Alfred was there at the most random times – and quite out of the blue considering that he had never spent personal time with Alfred anyway. How did he know he wanted to hang out with him when he had never done so before in his life?

Sixth year arrived and Arthur really wished there was an opportunity that they could just start over. It seemed unfair that he was banned from befriending a nice, clever, interesting person just because the two of them were particularly Slytherin-y and Gryffindor-y. But the shock and questioning he could expect from his classmates if he even attempted to talk to Alfred made it much too intimidating to change the way things were. It was a shame that something like peer pressure could hold him back from possibly making a friend; but at school, at Hogwarts, and especially between the classic Slytherin and Gryffindor who had made a big show of a five-year rivalry…it was just impossible.

And yet here they were. Tucked away in a secret corner of the library, Alfred posing charmingly and Arthur giving him as appreciative looks as he could muster. How the hell had they managed to get here?

Whatever the case…Arthur was relieved. It felt so liberating! This blatant, shameless flirting was wonderful. He and Alfred were playing together, just having some fun, not caring what anyone else would think about them. It was the best time Arthur had ever had, almost.

In fact, off the top of his head, he couldn't think of any other experiences that felt quite as nice as this.

He had thought he just wanted to get to know Alfred, maybe be his friend if things worked out. But apparently the reason he had missed the loud American these past few years was much deeper and more intimate than he had anticipated.

So _this_ was what he wanted from Alfred F. Jones. Who would have thought it…

Alfred finally decided to kill all pretence, as thin and artificial as it had been. He held out an arm and flexed it – the muscles bulging visibly beneath the rolled up sleeves of his white school shirt – and grinned over at Arthur with no shame whatsoever.

And a truly happy smile just spread to life across Arthur's face, seeping into his eyes and shining through as obviously as it did in Alfred's. They smiled genuinely at each other, showing teeth and blushing cheeks as if they did this every day of their lives and trusted each other enough not to have to feel embarrassed.

Alfred shoved the book haphazardly back into the shelf and wandered over to join the cluttered desk and its lonely occupant. He pulled up a chair unnecessarily close to Arthur's, and slipped in beside him, slinging an arm round the back of Arthur's seat and making it all feel like their own little private world.

"Good afternoon…Alfred."

"Hey…Arthur."

They placed the names carefully into the sentences spoken between them, testing them out. It was the first time they'd ever called each other by their first names. For five years they'd had to be the impersonal "Jones" and "Kirkland" to each other – along with any other cruel, mocking nicknames they could think up.

"What'cha doin'?" the American wizard drawled.

"Not much," lied Arthur, ignoring the existence of his dozen or so essays and homework assignments. This was more important right now. He should take what he could while he had the opportunity. He leant his head back until it was resting on the arm Alfred had draped almost around his shoulders. He rolled his head slowly to the side and looked up at Alfred, their faces exhilaratingly close. "This work is _so_ boring."

Had he ever said that in his life? God, this little game they were playing was easy to fall into.

"Oh yeah?" grinned Alfred, looking triumphant and excited. Had the Gryffindor boy ever imagined Arthur would be won round so easily, the Slytherin wondered with a twinge of shame and a thrill of delight. It just all seemed so funny, somehow. Here he was thinking it was impossible to be friends, and look how goddamned easy it was to have _this_.

"Yeah."

"That sucks." It looked like there was meant to be more of Alfred's little seduction speech, and Arthur really wanted to hear it. But the Gryffindor stopped abruptly, eyes wide, when Arthur scooted closer, his face now leaning right up against Alfred's shoulder, breath fluttering over the taller boy's neck, too close for them not to give in and touch anymore.

"Mm," said Arthur.

One lingering moment of green eyes locked on blue, and suddenly they were on each other, both attacking at the same time like they had planned it from the start.

They gasped and kissed and nipped and panted, all over each other, as much as they could reach. They dragged and pulled and clutched with their hands, at shirts, hair, arms, shoulders. It was desperate, like they had to have their fill right now because it was their only chance; it was scary, because what were they _doing_? What would the other think when it was all over? But it was exciting, it was necessary, they _needed_ it. God, if they ever had to stop Arthur was going to explode, and if he didn't get it all, right now, if Alfred didn't give it to him, he was going to burst.

One of them moaned; the other growled, like an animal. And when Arthur gasped at the surge of lust that shot through him, Alfred launched himself in for more.

Before he could register what had happened, Arthur felt a thrill of panic at the sensation of falling, and suddenly he was on the ground, on his back, and his head was hurting.

He groaned, a different sort of groan this time, and felt Alfred's weight on him in a much less pleasant fashion than before. He looked down his nose to see Alfred slowly raise himself up somewhere around Arthur's chest. He rubbed at his right elbow, looking winded, but he still couldn't stop the sheepish grin that flashed onto his face as he looked up and spotted Arthur watching him.

"Sorry. I pushed the chair over," he explained. "Tried to protect your head, but I just ended up knocking my arm."

"That's okay," said Arthur, and he meant it. Alfred crawled off him, and the Slytherin sat up slowly in stages, rubbing his head gingerly. "It's probably best we don't continue that here anyway," and they both knew what he was referring to. "Madame Pince has spells everywhere to detect rises in body temperature and physical proximity and whatnot."

"Ooooh, so _that's_ why everyone always gets caught in here," Alfred said in awed realisation. "All my friends always come back from the library totally pissed, it's so funny! But we never knew how she was doing it."

They were still on the floor, Arthur sitting cross-legged and Alfred kneeling beside him, not looking at each other. The uncontrollable desire that had flooded their senses had disappeared.

But it had left something else in its wake. Something that wasn't guilt, shame, embarrassment, or regret. Something that was wonderful and exciting and nerve-wracking, and left Arthur anticipating Alfred's next words more than he'd ever hoped for something in his life.

"So, I have class now…but I'd really like to see you later. I know a place where we could hang out, just the two of us."

That pleased, happy smile that was soon becoming impossible to keep off his face when the American was around blossomed to life again.

"That sounds…lovely."

* * *

><p>AN:

I'm not a fan of crossovers when the different sets of characters are mixed together, but I enjoy seeing Hetalia characters in the settings of other franchises. And I just luuuuurve our boys at Hogwarts!

I thought this one worked better as a Hogwarts AU rather than a regular Gakuen AU because of the unquestionable Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry, that Alfred and Arthur would no doubt be forced into.

I actually see Arthur as a Gryffindor, myself, but I like the idea of them being rivals, too. (They're both Prefects, by the way.)


	2. On the Rooftop

~ On the Rooftop ~

It was actually a bit of an ingenious place to meet, Arthur admitted to himself as he waited on the rooftop for Alfred. He'd expected something like "in the Forbidden Forest" or "by the Black Lake" – exactly where everyone else went to be 'alone'.

But of course, the trouble-making daredevil, Alfred F. Jones, had found himself his _own_ place to go, and Arthur was thankful for that. He loved the grand reaching turrets of the castle, and sitting up here was like being in a forest full of them.

And yet Alfred had still somehow managed to find the one flat space on the entire rooftop, hidden out of sight from anyone on the ground below. And not only that but it had a perfect view of the lake, the forest, the mountains, and sunset – almost enough to make you want to look away from the cliché of it all.

Arthur was early, of course, but much sooner than he expected he heard the whoosh of a broom, and Alfred landed next to him.

"Hey…Arthur." (This 'first-name basis' business was still new to them.) "You like it?" he asked, and Arthur took it correctly to mean their location and the view.

"It's perfect. I have to assume this flat space was built here on purpose."

"I know, right! Wouldn't surprise me," Alfred said, plopping himself down beside Arthur and leaning back leisurely on his hands. "The whole roof is pretty cool; there's different places I like to go depending on the time of day – to get the best view and everything. Anyway, I said we should meet here so you could find it easily, but I actually wanna hang out over here," he said, standing up and taking a step in his intended direction.

Arthur got up and followed him to a turret just to the side, and when Alfred laid down on it he realised it was another good spot. This turret sloped just enough that one could lay on it without the fear of sliding down and plummeting to your death – but you still got a wonderful view of the scenery, only now with more of the beautiful orange and gold sky above, unobstructed by turrets.

Arthur sat there for a moment to inspect the view, then lay back against the warm rooftop beside his new…Alfred.

They both turned their heads and looked at each other at the same moment. And smiled, because they just couldn't help it. Sure, Arthur was nervous and he had to assume that Alfred must be something along those lines, too. But it was still amazing. This was the best afternoon ever.

"I didn't mean to _attack_ you in the library back there, sorry 'bout that," grinned Alfred, apologetically. "I wasn't just horny or anything, so I hope I didn't make you feel like I was just using you."

Arthur blushed, but felt his heart leap at the implications. "Don't worry about it. I…didn't think that. Seeing as you asked to meet me here."

"But I coulda just been setting a trap?" Alfred suggested, smirking. "You're a Slytherin after all, not to mention my arch nemesis."

Arthur let out a quick chuckle. He was actually surprised at himself for not thinking that before – did he really just blindly trust Alfred all of a sudden? Where were his self-preservation instincts?

"Well, we seem to have grown out of that, don't you think?" he mused. "I don't remember the last time we really fought or did anything bad to each other. Or even spoke…" he added sadly, thinking of all those wasted years. "I've been hoping we could put our old, childish differences aside and…Well, I found myself wanting to get to know you better. But still, this afternoon was something of a surprise."

"Me too, kinda," said Alfred, looking up at the sky, and Arthur followed suit. "I knew I wanted to hang out with you, but I didn't realise I wanted…_that_."

Arthur's heart soared as Alfred voiced the exact thoughts he'd had secretly to himself.

"But then I just saw you in the library, and it was just you and me for once, and…I dunno, it was just a lot of fun."

Arthur wanted to hug himself in glee but refrained from doing so, because he would never forgive himself for it if he did.

"I promise I don't want you just for the…uh, physical stuff," Alfred said, with an endearing, nervous gulp at the mention and thought of 'the physical stuff.' "That's not what this is about; I do _honestly_ want to be friends. It's just…okay," said Alfred decisively, after a moment's reflection. "I did _legitimately_ hate you when we first met. And you hated me too, right?" He looked over, pleadingly. "I mean, that's not just me being a dick; we hated each other."

"Yes. I hated you for some reason," Arthur agreed. "Nothing personal, it's just the whole 'you are a complete Gryffindor prick' thing."

"Yeah, yeah! Exactly!" Alfred said, oddly happy given that they were confessing their age-old hatred for one another. "I didn't hate _you_, I just hated 'that Slytherin douchebag I'm meant to fight with.' It was fun, though, right? I mean, being rivals was pretty epic sometimes."

"Yes, it certainly was…stimulating. There are some things I probably won't ever forgive you for, and you did make me _very_ frustrated a lot of the time."

"Well, ditto," Alfred laughed. "You're a real bastard when you wanna be, you know that?" Arthur smiled, feeling bizarrely proud.

Alfred wriggled a little to get comfortable. His arms were crossed under his head, and he looked mostly up at the sky as they talked. Arthur was lying with his head against the ancient tiles, hands folded neatly on his stomach, legs crossed, and eyes flickering between the view and Alfred because sometimes he just couldn't quite believe they were here right now. It was decidedly surreal.

"Anyway," Alfred continued after a moment. "In year four I realised I didn't actually hate you that much anymore. I was treating you just like I always did but I realised I actually had to make an _effort_ at it; it didn't come naturally anymore. It just didn't feel as important to hate you as it did before.

"And I just kinda couldn't be bothered. The whole 'he's in Slytherin so I must make it my life's mission to pwn him' thing felt really stupid. I was like: he's a smart, decent guy, I don't need to hate him just 'cause he's in a different house. Isn't that like discrimination or something, anyway?"

Arthur was about to throw in his two cents, but Alfred ploughed on. "And then when I got back from summer vacation and we started fifth year…I dunno, I just…really wanted to catch up with you, ya know?" Arthur turned his head and frowned in confusion, though Alfred remained looking up at the sky as it turned from orange to purple. He was blushing, and Arthur just wanted to touch him, but this speech seemed important, so that could wait.

"I got back to Hogwarts and I saw you in the dining hall and I was like 'I wonder what Kirkland did over summer? I can't wait to tell him about when me and Mattie tried to get into that bar.' And then I was like 'The fuck? I don't even talk to him! Why do I suddenly want to tell him all about my vacation!' It was really weird."

Arthur sympathised, he really did. But still it seemed that Alfred didn't need to hear Arthur _say_ that to encourage him on. Apparently Alfred was trusting _him_ as blindly and ridiculously as Arthur was doing. (Honestly, what on earth was wrong with them?) And maybe just getting the years' worth of confusion of his chest was what Alfred needed most right now.

"And then all year I just wanted to hang out with you," Alfred practically sighed. "And I got so fricking annoyed at the fact that I could never just go up and talk to you because of what everyone would say. So I just avoided you like usual. Last year just sucked in general, actually…"

Finally, he turned his head and their eyes locked together as if they would never look anywhere else. "I want to get to know you," said Alfred, sounding serious despite the cheesy words. "That's what I want, Arthur. I want us to be friends, and hang out, and it's gonna be awesome. I don't know how I know that, seeing as we've only ever fought or ignored each other up till now. I just know…we should be friends."

Arthur had to close his eyes from the intensity and passion of Alfred's eyes, or he was going to end up kissing him senseless. So he blinked long and slowly, and tried to take a deep breath inconspicuously.

"Alfred, everything you've said…I feel the same," he admitted. Alfred's eyes widened as if he couldn't believe it, and Arthur wanted to snort. Of _course_ he felt it, too. But then again, he never would have assumed Alfred felt that way if he hadn't just poured his heart out first. It was clear to them both now, though, that they should be closer, just as Alfred suggested. They'd been doing this all wrong the whole time. "I hated you, then I didn't know why I should, then I wanted to be friends…But everyone else…They're going to be really awkward about it," he groaned, dreading the confused looks and adamant questioning which he was sure to expect.

"It's okay, Artie, I've got it all figured out!" beamed Alfred, and Arthur was too surprised that the oblivious teen had thought it over to wonder about the new nickname. (Truth be told, he didn't mind so much – he'd never had a nickname before. Not a nice one, at any rate.)

Alfred sat up, and Arthur followed suit. "So, here's the plan." Alfred held up two fingers, and ticked them off as he explained. "Fuck them, and let's do whatever we want."

Arthur beamed, then laughed, and Alfred had never been so proud of himself as he was right now, for making that happen. "So: friends?" he asked, lighting up far brighter than the dying sun sinking tiredly over the horizon.

Arthur suddenly stopped laughing.

All this time, Alfred had never actually mentioned being anything _more_ than friends. He'd avoided the topic of what they'd done in the library, and Arthur had assumed it was just out of shyness. But maybe he'd got it all wrong. Maybe their moment in the library was just a release of all that tension and frustration that had built up between them. It wasn't necessarily sexual…

His thoughts must have been all too easy to read on his face, because Alfred slid over the tiles closer towards him, grinning wolfishly.

"Hey," came Alfred's voice, so close and low that Arthur jumped. He'd been lost in his whirling thoughts and hadn't noticed the other boy sidling up to him. "I said I didn't want you _just_ for the physical stuff. But…" A seductive smile that he must have practiced to get it that…smouldering. "That _is_ one of the reasons I want you. Don't you worry."

Arthur stared at him, with eyes so wide it was probably unattractive, and a traitorous blush that he cursed to his dying day.

But then Alfred was running a hand up his cheek and through his hair, and Arthur was leaning in to the touch like he had no dignity to worry about. And not soon enough their lips were touching. Just touching for now, barely even pressing. Just the sweetest kiss Arthur would ever have, and one that he would remember to his dying day, despite all the more serious moments and encounters he would have in the future.

Alfred leant back a little, resting their foreheads against each other, noses touching, and smiling into each other's eyes. Their breathing was surprisingly hard and slow for such a little kiss.

And then they were pressing into each other with a further goal in mind: lips dragging at each other, tongues tugging, hands pulling, bodies falling slowly back against the rooftop, and they knew it was too soon but they just couldn't help themselves – they'd wanted it so long and they'd only just realised…

And yes, tomorrow would be frustrating as hell when he was forced to explain himself over and over to the people who thought they knew him better than that. But, Arthur thought, if he had Alfred's smile directed at him from now on, then it probably would be fairly easy to fuck them and do whatever he wanted.

And that's just what he intended to do.

* * *

><p>AN:

I know it's unrealistic, but I love the idea of Alfred and Arthur having the exact same thoughts/feelings about each other and not knowing the other feels the same way because they're too shy to admit it. It's just so romantic – they're on exactly the same wavelength! TRUE LOVE 4EVA!

Obviously, Alfred and Arthur are a bit too different for that to really work, but I still think it's cute.

Oh, and there will be one more chapter after this. A little lemon in the Prefect's Bathroom, because come on: we all know why the tub is that big...


	3. In the Prefects' Bathroom

~ In the Prefects' Bathroom – Prologue ~

As far as Alfred was concerned, Arthur agonised _way_ too long about when was the best time to do this.

"_This_" being sex in the prefects' bathroom, of course.

I mean, yeah, obviously the morning was a bad idea. Even _he_ wasn't stupid enough to attempt it then. (He _was_ horny enough, but he wasn't going to tell that to Arthur, because then the other would just mock him for being desperate.)

During a free period might not be so bad, but both of them had prefect duties that often took up some of that time, not to mention the fact that Arthur actually took the teachers seriously when they said that free periods were supposed to be used for _studying_.

Afternoons – another no-go. Too much of everyone being everywhere.

Evenings: that was the one that really got to Alfred. He didn't see why Arthur wouldn't let them risk it _then_. Any old evening would do. Students were all busy doing their homework, or at clubs, and much less likely to be wandering aimlessly around the corridors. And besides, it's not like there were _that_ many prefects in the school, all clamouring to use the bathroom at the same time. As long as Alfred casually let slip that he was heading over there, nobody would bother him; and it's not like Arthur had such a busy social life that everyone would be wondering where _he_ had disappeared to for a few hours.

But for some reason Arthur didn't want to just give it a shot. He wanted to be sure that no one would see either of them, or suspect anything.

Weekends: unlikely. Again, Alfred was happy to risk it any time, but Arthur seemed to have worked out a mathematical formula to predict just how many students and staff (and possibly even house elves and ghosts) would see them go into the bathroom at the same time.

"Then _when_, Artie? Come on, you're killing me here! You can't suggest something like this and then find all these reasons not to do it!"

Arthur just gave him a thick, raised eyebrow. "You sound a little desperate."

Fuck Arthur and his insane ability to hide his libido! Alfred knew for a _fact_ that it was just as, if not _more_, rampant than his own! He only pretended to be all cool just to drive Alfred crazy.

The Gryffindor huffed and grabbed the other boy's knees where he sat cross-legged opposite him on the roof. "Look. I'm a teenager, I'm a guy, I'm in a secret relationship, and my boyfriend is the sexiest fucking thing on the whole damn planet. Can't you just give me a break when I get a little hot?"

Arthur turned his head to the side, but Alfred knew it was to hide the half of his mouth which twitched up into a crooked smile. The way his eyes crinkled and sparkled gave it all away.

"I suppose," Arthur said, trying to sound generous rather than amused. "But look, I've thought a lot about it and – "

"So have I."

"_And_ I've come to the conclusion that the only time we can possibly think about doing it is at night."

Alfred sat back in surprise. "A-at night? Like 'when we're supposed to be in bed' night?" He didn't understand why Arthur – _Arthur_ freaking _Kirkland_ – was suggesting something so outrageously against the rules…that is, until he caught the full-fledged smirk that Arthur couldn't keep off his face any longer.

And then he remembered that important little thing he had learnt about the Slytherin teen during the course of their relationship – something which he easily forgot because Arthur hid it so well.

It had taken Alfred no longer than two days with his new boyfriend before he realised something about the other boy: the reason that Arthur Kirkland loved to follow the rules _so much_ was because it made him even more turned on when he broke them.

"So at night? When it's wrong," Alfred continued, an unusually cunning grin stretching over his dazzling white teeth. "When it's against the rules." His voice dropped lower in volume and tone. "When we'd get in _so_ much trouble if we were caught. When everyone would know _exactly_ what the two of us were doing alone together in the bathroom."

Arthur practically purred, but managed to catch himself before the sound got too loud. Alfred knew just what was going on, though, from the way Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath, head falling back slightly, weighed down with the images that Alfred was giving him.

"I suppose we'll just have to risk it," he said, regaining control of his voice again. "I'm only doing this for you, you know. Since you're so sick of doing it on the roof."

"Yeah, well, not that I don't love it up here, but it's getting to the point where I can't even look up here without thinking about sex. You've got me conditioned! And this used to be my nice, calm place! Roofs shouldn't do that to a guy."

"Well, that's your fault for being a _pervert_," Arthur pretended to snap. But the devious sidelong look he gave the Gryffindor boy said something entirely different. Namely: 'Ha ha. Now I'm going to purposefully make you horny by saying the word _pervert_ in my sexy British accent. You're too easy!'

Alfred grinned, leaning forwards and catching Arthur's lips in a kiss – honestly catching him, because Arthur wasn't getting away until Alfred said so now.

"It's all you, babe. All you."

~~~ Later ~~~

It was only a few hours later when Arthur cornered Alfred in a secret passage after dinner.

"Dude, what?" the American demanded, rubbing at his sore neck from where the Slytherin had yanked him in to the passageway by the collar.

"Tonight. 9 o' clock."

"T-tonight?" Alfred squeaked in surprise. _Days_ of Arthur 'umming' and 'aahing' about this little escapade and now all of a sudden it's _today_?

"You have Quidditch training tonight, don't you?" Arthur asked, standing a little too close to him, and breathing just a little heavily. "Just stay outside a bit longer and practice by yourself. Make sure to work hard and get good and sweaty, so people won't be too suspicious if you take a nice, _long_ bath." The word 'long' was drawn out as Arthur ran his hands up over Alfred's broad chest. Then he pulled him down into a very long, heated and sloppy kiss. The Slytherin prefect had obviously been thinking about this.

Finally, he let the taller blonde go. Alfred's head reeled, and he leant back against the wall in a daze, legs feeling like jelly.

Arthur coughed, a habit of his when trying to regain control of himself after some emotional outburst.

"So. 9 o' clock. I'll bring snacks since you'll be hungry after practice." He turned to leave, one hand already on the tapestry hiding their secret corridor.

But then he seemed to think better of it, obviously not satisfied with his teasing. He turned back, pressed himself up against Alfred's strong arm, brought his mouth close to the tall blonde's ear and whispered hotly: "I'll be waiting." And then he was gone.

Alfred blinked, and let his head fall back against the wall of the quiet corridor as he tried to get control of his breath, and will the flush off his face.

Arthur, in the bathroom, waiting for him, with _food_. God, _there _was a thought.

One that Alfred was sure would keep him thoroughly distracted _all_ through Quidditch practice…

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

I know I promised that the last chapter would be lemon. And it _will _be (when I get round to finishing it).

However, due to ffnet suddenly enforcing their forgotten rules about smut, I am not comfortable posting the final chapter of this AU on here. So this is as far as I will post on ffnet for this story.

If you want the _full_ final chapter, with the bathroom smut, then you'll have to follow my tumblr account at _**justa-fangirl .tumblr .com**_ or my Livejournal at _**just_a_fangirl .livejournal .com**_

The final chapter is not actually finished, and won't be out any time soon. So it's not on my other websites yet. I just wanted to post this prologue on ffnet for now to explain the situation: that the smut will no longer be posted on ffnet because of them going crazy, but it _WILL_ be posted somewhere else at a later date.

Sorry for the inconvenience.


End file.
